


Two Lives

by yOyO_101



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 07:55:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14208636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yOyO_101/pseuds/yOyO_101
Summary: Spot and Race get caught by the Delanceys





	Two Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the angst. Slight reference to killing oneself, don’t read on if that makes you uncomfortable.

Race never missed a poker night. Every Thursday, rain or shine, he would show up at the Brokelyn lodging house with cards in hand, and an unlit cigar dangling from his lips. There was one reason he never missed poker night, Spot. Spot Colon, king of Brokelyn, most feared teenager in all of New York, and Race’s boyfriend. Once a week, Race would wipe the floor with Spot’s newsies, and then they would disappear into Spot’s room till the morning bell. 

They were always careful. Stolen kisses took place in abandoned warehouses, and lonely allies. Tender and loving kisses were given inside the safety of the king’s suite. They were always careful, until they weren’t. Until the day they won they strike, and there was only one way they could think of to celebrate. Until the walk got too long back to Brokelyn, and the two boys couldn’t wait to rejoice. Until the Delancey brothers found them in an ally not even two blocks from the bridge. Until the worst day of Spot’s life.

It was his fault, he was the one who couldn’t wait to get back, and instead shoved Racer against that wall, and began feverishly kissing him. It was him who was too startled to fight back as they were being tied up. He did nothing but yell as blow upon blow rained down on his love. He sat and watched helplessly as the boy he loved was blooded and bruised, and tossed in the back of a cart heading for the worst place in all of New York, the refuge. He didn’t fight when the brothers turned to him, brass knuckles died red from his Race’s blood. He didn’t struggle when they tossed his broken body into the cart. He sat there quietly, as the boy he spent every waking moment thinking about, layed limp in front of him. He didnt speak when they were dragged through the refuge doors, and tossed immediately into the basement.

The first noise he made was barely a squeak. The first noise he made was when Racetrack shifted in his sleep. The first noise he made in hours was a response to realizing his beautiful boy was alive. The next noise he made, was one telling Snyder to back down. The next noise he made was louder, and stronger than the first. The second noise he made was a growl at the warden, telling him if he wanted to hurt Race, he would have to go through him. The final noise he made of that day, was a scream. It was a scream that echoed off of every wall and door. It was a scream that made the entire building shake. His final noise came when they hurt his beautiful boy beyond repair. His final noise for months happened when one of the Delancey brothers pulled out a switch blade and stabbed his soulmate through the chest. His final sound was a revenge call for his first and only love. His final noise was a mangled, bloodcurdling scream. 

After that, everything was just a blur. He attacked everything in sight. In the span of a few minutes, the brothers were on the ground, and the warden was nowhere to be seen. Even after the brothers went down, he still fought tooth and nail. He punched and kicked the wall until he couldn’t feel his feet, and his hands were only bloody messes. He didn’t stop until he felt a soft hand on his shoulder, Davey’s hand. Then, he snapped. He sunk to the ground and sobbed over the broken body of his beautiful, amazing, and cleaver boy. It was the type of sob you could see, not hear. It was completely silent, and it was brutal. He sat there for what felt like days. He sat there until the other newsies walked him to the Manhattan lodging house. Jack carried the broken body of the boy Spot loved wrapped in a sheet. 

When they arrived at the home of the newsies, Davey led Spot to Race’s bed. Spot sat there for days, only eating when one of the other newsies made him. His second in command took over Brokelyn, and he was fine with that. He didn’t move until the small funeral for Manhattan number two. After that, he reclaimed Race’s bed. It smelled like him, stale smoke and horses. Spot didn’t move for a month, until his savings began to run low and he needed to sell. He got up and walked to the circulation gate at the morning bell with Crutchie. He sold with Specs, letting the Manhattan boy do all the talking. Spot was broken beyond repair, and each and every newsie could see it.

Two lives were taken that fateful night. One was taken from this world, and one was left wandering in search for its match. The latter grew weary of the search, and drowned in order to see its match again. Both lives were mourned by their companions. But do not weep for them dear friends, for they are not lost, but found in each other’s arms.


End file.
